He smiled back a bit sheepishly, for the way she was watching him made him feel as though he'd just been caught in the act of doing something forbidden.
'You fell out of bed, sweetheart,' he told her.
She thought his comment was vastly amusing. When he questioned her about her laughter, she shook her head, told him he probably wouldn't understand, and asked why he didn't just make love to her again and quit frowning so ferociously.
Lyon fell into her arms, and into her plan wholeheartedly.
Christina proved to be just as uninhibited in the morning light as she was during the dark hours of the night. And he was just as satisfied.
He stayed in bed with his hands behind his head, watching his wife as she straightened the room and got dressed. He was amazed by her lack of shyness. She didn't seem to be the least embarrassed by her nudity. She was dressed all too soon for his liking, in a pretty violet-colored walking gown, and when she began to brush the tangles from her hair, Lyon noticed the length didn't reach her hips now. No, her hair was waist-length.
'Christina, did you cut your hair?'
'Yes.'
'Why? I like it long,' Lyon said.
'You do?'
She turned from the mirror to smile at him. 'Don't pin it up on top of your head, either,' Lyon ordered. 'I like it down.'
'It isn't fashionable,' Christina quoted. 'But I shall bend to my husband's dictates,' she added with a mock curtsy. ' Lyon, are we leaving for your country home today?'
'Yes.'
Christina tied a ribbon around her hair at the back of her neck, a frown of concentration on her face. 'How long will it take us?' she asked.
'About three hours, a little longer perhaps,' Lyon answered.
Then came a sound of someone banging on the front door. 'Now who do you suppose that could be?' Christina asked.
'Someone with bad manners,' Lyon muttered. He reluctantly got out of bed, reached for his clothing, then quickened his actions when his wife hurried out of the room. 'Christina, don't you open that door until you know who it is,' he bellowed after her.
He stumbled on a piece of sharp metal, let out a curse over his awkwardness, then glanced down to see the handle of Christina's knife protruding from the edge of the blanket she'd pulled to the floor with her. Now what in heaven's name was her knife doing there? Lyon shook his head. He determined to question her just as soon as he got rid of their unwanted visitors.
Christina had requested names as Lyon instructed before she unlocked the chains and opened the door.
Misters Borton and Henderson, her grandfather's solicitors, stood on the front stoop. They both looked terribly uncomfortable. Aunt Patricia was standing between the two men. She looked furious.
Christina wasn't given time to greet her guests properly or to get out of her aunt's way. The Countess slapped Christina across her face so forcefully that Christina stumbled backwards.
She would have fallen if Mr. Borton hadn't grabbed hold of her arm to steady her. Both solicitors were shouting at the Countess, and Henderson endeavored to restrain the wily old woman when she tried to strike Christina again.
'You filthy whore,' the Countess screeched. 'Did you think I wouldn't hear the stories of the vile things you did while I was away? And now you've gone and married the bastard!'
Lyon 's roar shook the walls. Borton and Henderson both took hesitant steps back. The Countess was too angry to show similar caution, however. She turned to glare up at the man who had ruined all her plans.
Christina also turned to look at her husband. The left side of her face was throbbing with pain, but she tried to smile at her husband, to tell him it was really all right.
Lyon was down the stairs and pulling Christina into his arms before she could begin her explanation. He tilted her face up for his scrutiny, then asked her in a voice chilled with his rage, 'Who did this to you?'
She didn't have to answer. The solicitors interrupted each other as they hastened to explain that the Countess had struck her niece.
Lyon turned to Christina's aunt. 'If you ever touch her again, you won't live to boast of it. Do you understand me?'
The aunt's eyes turned to slits, and her voice was filled with venom when she answered Lyon. 'I know all about you. Yes, you would kill a defenseless woman, wouldn't you? Christina's going home with me now. This marriage will be annulled.'
'It will not,' Lyon answered.
'I'll go to the authorities,' the Countess shouted, so forcefully that the veins stood out in the sides of her neck.
'Do that,' Lyon answered, his voice soft. 'And after you've spoken to them, I'll send your friend Splickler to tell them the rest of the story.'
The Countess let out a shrill gasp. 'You cannot prove-'
'Oh, but I already have,' Lyon interjected. A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes changed his expression. 'Splickler has conveniently written everything down on paper, Countess. If you want to make trouble, go right ahead.'
'You can't believe I had anything to do with Splickler,' the Countess said to Christina. 'Why, I was visiting my friend in the country.'
'You were staying all by yourself at the Platte Inn,' Lyon answered.
'You had me followed?'
'I knew you'd lied to Christina,' Lyon announced. 'It's a fact you don't have any friends, Countess. I was immediately suspicious.'
'Then you're the one who caused all the mishaps when I tried to return to London before the wedding. I would have stopped it. You knew that, didn't you, you-'
'Get out of here,' Lyon commanded. 'Say goodbye to your niece, Countess. You're never going to see her again. I'll see to it.'
' Lyon,' Christina whispered. She was about to soothe his anger. He gave her a gentle squeeze, however, and she assumed he didn't want her interference.
Christina wished he wouldn't get so upset on her behalf. It really wasn't necessary. She understood her aunt far better than Lyon did. She knew how greed motivated her aunt's every action.
'Christina, do you know you've married a cold-blooded murderer? Oh, yes,' the Countess sneered. ' England knighted him for his cold-blooded-'
'Madam, hold your tongue,' Mr. Henderson said in a harsh whisper. 'It was wartime,' he added, with a sympathetic look at Christina.
Christina could feel the rage in her husband. His hold on her was rigid. She tried to think of a way to calm him and rid them of their uninvited guests. She slipped her hand under his jacket and began to stroke his back, trying to tell him without words that the angry comments didn't matter to her.
'Mr. Borton? Have you carried along the papers for me to sign?' she asked in a whisper.
'It is your husband who must sign the papers, my dear,' Mr. Henderson answered. 'My lord? If you would only give us a few minutes of your time, the funds will be handed over to you without further delay.'
'Funds? What funds?' Lyon asked, shaking his head.
The Countess stomped on the floor. 'Christina, if he doesn't give me my money, I'll make certain he never wants to touch you again. Yes, I'll tell him everything. Do you understand me?'
Christina's soothing strokes on Lyon 's back weren't helping. She could feel his new fury. She gave him a squeeze.
Lyon had never harmed a woman, but he didn't think it was an odious thought to murder the evil woman defaming his wife. He was aching to throw her out the door.
'Did this woman come with you or does she have her own carriage?' Lyon asked the two gentlemen.
